Page 7 of Courting Miss Lancaster
“Mr. Howard,” she asked, “from which part of the kingdom do you hail?”
“Essex,” Mr. Howard answered quite seriously.
“Essex, I understand, is a very beautiful county,” Athena offered.
Mr. Howard simply nodded. Harry felt a smile tugging at his lips. Mr. Howard was quite the least talkative person of Harry’s acquaintance. It was not a result of timidity; Harry would never take advantage of a character trait that was so inherently vulnerable. Mr. Howard simply never felt the need to say much above four words at a time. And he was quite without anything resembling a sense of humor. His every remark was made somberly, whether or not such a tone was fitting.
Mr. Howard nodded, the sort of nod one would use when discussing deaths or difficult legal questions or war. “There are some very fine trees in Essex.”
Harry fought back a smile.Work your magic, Howard.
“I believe I saw several very exemplary trees when I was last in Essex,” a gentleman standing near Athena said. Harry recognized him. Charles Dalforth was a gentleman of some expectations, if not true personal wealth, who was universally regarded as honorable and declared to be a good sort of chap by the members of his club. He would require watching, Harry decided. But Mr. Howard was to be the focus of that evening’s undertaking. Mr. Dalforth’s eyes met Harry’s, a look of amusement in their depths. He, apparently, could see the ridiculousness of Mr. Howard’s conversation.
Harry simply raised his eyebrows and allowed his lips to turn up ever so slightly.
Mr. Howard nodded, the space between his eyebrows creasing with thought. “Indeed. We have some very fine elms.”
A general nod rippled through the group. Persephone turned toward one of the others gathered nearby and opened her mouth to speak, but Mr. Howard spoke again.
“And birches.”
Persephone offered a polite smile.
“Ash.”
Harry allowed his eyes to stray to Athena and was not disappointed. She seemed to be fluctuating between confusion and amusement.
“Willow.”
All eyes were on Mr. Howard. His rather bland and exceptionally persistent listing of native trees had caught the others off guard.
“Yew.”
Athena’s eyes met Harry’s, and he could no longer hold back his smile. She raised an eyebrow in obvious inquiry, tipping her head slightly in Mr. Howard’s direction. Harry managed an almost indiscernible shrug but allowed a small lifting of his eyebrows. Her eyes narrowed slightly. Harry pasted his most innocent expression on his face.
Slowly, beautifully, a smile spread across her mouth, bringing out the mesmerizing dimple he’d discovered at the left of her mouth the first time he’d seen her smile. Harry had to force himself to continue breathing evenly, to prevent any trace of the effect she had on him from showing in his features. Lands, she was beautiful.
“Miss Lancaster.” Mr. Howard’s voice broke the moment, pulling Athena’s still-smiling gaze away from Harry. He immediately felt loss at the severed connection, even as he registered the relief of being able to breathe again. “I see you are enthusiastic about yews.”
A flicker of surprise passed over Athena’s face, and Harry had to force back his grin once more. “Yews?” Athena repeated. “As in trees?”
“What other yews are there?” Mr. Howard asked quite seriously.
“There are sheep,” Mr. Dalforth supplied, a touch of humor barely noticeable in his tone. “Ewes, I believe, can refer to sheep.”
“But that is spelled differently,” Mr. Howard answered as though puzzling out a very complicated matter.
Mr. Dalforth smiled. “So it is,” he said with obvious good humor. He turned to Persephone. “Your Grace.” He bowed quite properly. “I believe our hostess is indicating that the second half of tonight’s entertainment”—he offered the last word with a note of irony in his voice—“is set to begin. I must reluctantly take my leave, as my mother quite specifically requested I sit beside her this evening.”
“One must ever be mindful of one’s mother,” Persephone replied.
“Indeed,” Mr. Dalforth said. “And I was pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Lancaster,” he offered to Athena.
“And I yours, Mr. Dalforth,” Athena replied with a smile.
Harry was quick to reassure himself that Athena’s smile forhimhad been far broader.
No sooner had Mr. Dalforth slipped from sight than Mr. Howard picked up the discarded topic of only moments earlier. “What other trees are among your favorites, Miss Lancaster?” he asked Athena.
